


like the ocean is trying to drown you

by rolie_polie



Series: my mind is an ecosystem (and it's all burning down) [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Discussions of PTSD, Established Relationship, Human Trafficking - mentioned, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Robbery, Swearing, don't be fooled by the tags this story is nothing but fluff, follow up to 'like the world is trying to spit you out', gratuitous fluff, gratuitous handholding, its adorable and gross, tsukishima is fully obsessed w yamaguchi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolie_polie/pseuds/rolie_polie
Summary: He doesn't talk about what happened to him. He's never wanted to. But when he finally does, it's something like breathing again.or,Tsukishima tells Yamaguchi a story.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: my mind is an ecosystem (and it's all burning down) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187831
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	like the ocean is trying to drown you

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Discussions of PTSD, mentions of panic attacks, description of a robbery and mentioned human trafficking.
> 
> Note that this is a follow-up to "like the world is trying to spit you out." Reading it isn't necessary to understand this story, but might provide better context.
> 
> I gave in and now I've written 10 pages of ooey gooey fluff. Enjoy it lmaoo.

There’s a heaviness in Kei. One that lives at the base of his skull, and in the depth of his diaphragm. It’s been there for almost as long as he can draw memory, festering like a malignant tumour that has yet to metastasize. Never enough to kill him, but always bordering on the edge, always a risk – and he has no choice but to take the risk. This heaviness; it isn’t surgically removable. He’s learned to live with it, and he participates in his life, walks through each day meeting the expectations set out for him. Exceeding them, even. That’s just what Kei does. He shows up, he excels, he lives with the heaviness. Even though it numbs him, makes joy feel like an undeserved gift and conflict like a chore.

It’s not like Kei doesn’t have feelings, though. He does.

His ability to feel things is precisely why he made the decision to risk his friendship with Yamaguchi and ask him out. It was a good decision. His feelings for Yamaguchi are soft and squishy and regrettably, sickeningly romantic, and the star-struck look on his freckled face when Kei made the leap was painfully worth every ounce of embarrassment.

The real problem, is that it’s as though he feels things under water. The vibrancy of his feelings is dulled out by the rushing sound, the pressure in his ears. And it sucks, really, because even if he won’t admit it, Kei likes having feelings. Some of them suck, but some of them really, _really_ don’t suck. Like, for example, being around Yamaguchi. Not being able to feel that fully, having this heaviness in his body that casts a shadow over that feeling? It pisses Kei off.

This is what he thinks about after practice, while he sits behind Yamaguchi in his bedroom and runs nimble fingers through soft, thick hair, separating strands for braiding. They spend a lot of their time together quietly, offering affection in the ways they’re most comfortable. And Kei likes braiding Yamaguchi’s hair. It lets him focus, lets thoughts of school and volleyball and the future and his heaviness melt away, so all he has to pay attention to is his boyfriend. And Yamaguchi likes basking in Kei’s undivided attention. It’s a win-win.

Things are a little different tonight, though. Kei can practically hear the gears turning in Yamaguchi’s head. He knows that it’s because of what he said during practice. He said it quietly, an annoyed grumble, so he’s not sure if anyone else even heard him. But Yamaguchi is always listening. He’s attuned to Kei, some part of him always focused on the middle blocker, always trying to read him and understand him and hear him. It’s nice to have someone who cares so much, but Kei wishes that just this once, Yamaguchi didn’t pay attention. His admission was, frankly, unintentional. One moment, he was trying to decide whether or not to make fun of Hinata for disrupting practice to wail about his panic disorder. The next, he was overcome with the camaraderie of his teammates in their effort to comfort Hinata, and he himself decided to open his stupid mouth. Gross.

It’s too late to do anything about it now, though. It’s up to Yamaguchi whether to bring it up or let it go, because Kei has no intention of talking about it further if he isn’t asked. He doesn’t know how he would bring it up, and he’s not sure he’ll even know what to say if Yamaguchi does.

Speaking of which, his boyfriend won’t stop squeezing his hands and readjusting his legs, and it’s making braiding his hair quite the task. Kei clicks his tongue and drops his hands into his lap.

“You’re thinking too loud, ‘dashi,” he complains.

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi squeaks, his shoulders tensing.

He’s been caught and he knows it. Kei is too damn good at reading him. The pinch server turns around, his eyes scanning Kei’s expression. He’s a lot harder to read, but Yamaguchi makes a commendable effort. And he’s getting better at it.

“What is it?” Kei sighs.

“Um, well…” Yamaguchi pinches the tips of his fingers, “it’s just, you never told me that you have PTSD, Tsukki.”

“You never told me you get panic attacks,” Kei retorts.

At that, a hot flush spreads across Yamaguchi’s cheeks, and he pinches his fingers a bit harder. He looks anxious, like he’s preparing himself for an argument – if that were the case, it would be their first as a couple. Kei smacks himself inwardly. He forgets himself sometimes, and can sound annoyed even when he isn’t. Like a silent apology, or more a reassurance, he reaches out and wrestles Yamaguchi’s hands apart, sliding their fingers together and watching him.

“Ah, you’re right,” Yamaguchi admits, “I, uh, I just- I don’t get them as often as Hinata does. And I guess my brain just feels safe around you, so I’ve never really thought to mention it. I wasn’t trying to hide it, promise. I was just- a little embarrassed. I should’ve told you sooner. Sorry.”

Kei’s stomach flutters with a conflicting warmth at knowing that he feels safe to Yamaguchi, and a virulent hatred at the apology. As if he’s owed one.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he says, “we’re not married, you can keep some things private.”

Yamaguchi’s expression cracks for a second, something like sadness or discomfort making his lips twitch, but then he smiles. His eyes soften, “right. You’re right. Um, so… you…?”

His groan is definitely overdramatic, but Kei revels in the way Yamaguchi squeals as he slumps forward and pushes his boyfriend to the floor, planting his head on Yamaguchi’s chest. It may be a bit of an act to delay the inevitable, but he _does_ really like cuddling. He’s usually pretty aloof about it, but in private, he enjoys invading Yamaguchi’s personal space, and he loves how it makes his boyfriend’s face light up with excitement. Kei nuzzles into his collar.

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi giggles, “stop trying to distract me.”

Kei huffs, pushing himself up to hover over Yamaguchi’s face. He loves his freckles. They’re a gentle spattering across the bridge of his nose, billowing out along his cheeks, some stray ones dancing up to his forehead and down his jaw. Kei leans down, smoothing his lips over one of the freckles on Yamaguchi’s cheek. Then, he blows a raspberry. A big, fat, slobbery raspberry, and Yamaguchi just about screams with laughter, his whole body jerking as he tries to roll away from the ticklish sensation, but he’s pinned down underneath Kei.

“Tsukkiii,” he whines.

And, fine, he supposes he can’t completely avoid it forever. Kei pulls back, looking at Yamaguchi as the pinch server reaches up, sleeve over his hand, and wipes his cheek. His eyes are lit up and warm, but he’s expecting _something_. Kei can’t just not say anything at all.

“I don’t really like talking about it,” he finally says.

“You don’t have to,” Yamaguchi shakes his head, “but you’re always here for me! I just want you to know that you _can_ talk about it. I’m here for you too.”

How is he this charming, really? Kei’s heart is fully melting inside of his chest, and he’s about to have gooey heart juice all over the inside of his ribcage. It’s going to be a mess. Yamaguchi is going to have to clean it up, this is all his fault. Kei is _soft_ now, and it’s stupid Yamaguchi’s fault. Kei pushes the hair out of his boyfriend’s face, giving himself a moment to think.

He doesn’t have to talk about it. Yamaguchi won’t be angry or heartbroken if he doesn’t, so it’s perfectly acceptable for him to just say “thank you” and then go back to braiding hair and emptying his mind. That would be alright, and nothing will go bad if that’s what he decides to do. But, Kei can’t help thinking further ahead than this moment. What about in the future? He knows they’re young, he can’t exactly declare that he’s going to spend the rest of his life with Yamaguchi and know that to be a fact. But he also knows he can’t picture himself with anyone else, ever. And what if they stay together, and a few years from now, he still hasn’t said anything? He realizes that, even if Yamaguchi means what he’s saying, it might eventually be a problem. Eventually, it will kill Yamaguchi, to know that there is this heaviness living inside of Kei, a part of him that he’s never allowed his partner to know, a part that he isn’t even allowed to see. Eventually, it’ll start to hurt him. Kei doesn’t like that thought. He looks down at Yamaguchi’s flushed face, his gentle, open-hearted smile, and decides that if anyone gets to know, it has to be Yamaguchi. If a random stranger who’s being paid to listen to Kei gets to know, then Yamaguchi gets to know. If his whole family gets to know, then Yamaguchi gets to know, because Yamaguchi is family too.

“Alright,” with a grunt, Kei pushes himself to his feet, reaching out his hand to Yamaguchi, “come on.”

Without question, Yamaguchi takes his hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Kei leads him out into the hall, down the stairs, slides on his shoes and gestures for Yamaguchi to do the same. The pinch server pouts about it, not exactly a fan of the idea of a walk after such a grueling day, but he doesn’t argue. Kei still hasn’t confirmed whether or not he plans to talk about it, and it seems that Yamaguchi isn’t intent on risking the possibility that he will.

So they leave the house, and start the trek down the street. Kei slides his hand into Yamaguchi’s. Threads their fingers together, thumb brushing over the warm skin of his boyfriend’s hand. He likes how Yamaguchi always seems just a little bit surprised by his affection. Kei tends to come off as cold and brash and maybe a bit shallow, so he’s sure this isn’t what Yamaguchi was expecting when they got together. He wonders if Yamaguchi expected to have to coax Kei out of his shell, to have to nudge him for warmth and cuddles and hugs and handholding – if he worried that his needs might be a bit too much for Kei. But it’s the exact opposite, really. He’s reserved when they’re at school and practice, or in crowded public spaces, limiting himself to brushing fingers and head pats and wiping crumbs off the corner of Yamaguchi’s lips. But in private, Kei’s like a cuddly teddy bear. Yamaguchi couldn’t help but tease him for it at first, except that he likes the affection just as much as Kei does. So now, it’s a comfortable pattern. They fit together with ease. It has yet to be a challenge.

Kei can’t help worrying that this, now, may present a challenge. It isn’t a distrust in Yamaguchi that makes him feel this way. He just knows that this kind of thing presents complication. Admitting to the state of his mental health, explaining how it got that way, opening himself up and allowing Yamaguchi to see the imperfect parts of him – that’s the challenge. Even under water, that thought is scarier than Kei cares to admit. Yamaguchi isn’t shallow, and he’s certainly not stupid. Something like this, it won’t be enough to scare him off. But once he knows about it, Kei knows that he’ll feel less inclined to hide his symptoms, less motivated to maintain the hard days as secrets. And he isn’t sure if Yamaguchi will be able to handle him.

Whatever. He’s made up his mind. He’s not about to bow out.

Eventually, he slows to a stop. They’re still on a residential street, and it’s dark and quiet, the only light coming from a flickering street lamp. Kei releases Yamaguchi’s hand and sits on the curb, patting the space next to him so Yamaguchi will do the same. He pushes his glasses up his nose and pushes out an unsteady breath.

“Why’d you bring me here?” Yamaguchi asks, testing the waters.

“I just needed a minute,” Kei explains, “and I wanted to be somewhere more open.”

Just like that, they’re holding hands again. Yamaguchi sits, patient and eager, remaining quiet. Leaving it all up to Kei.

“Okay, so, like…” Kei scuffs his feet against the pavement, “what exactly do you know about PTSD?”

Yamaguchi shrugs, “well, a bit. But most of the stuff I’ve learned about it is probably a bit sensationalized because it’s all dramatic and extreme in movies and stories. I know that it happens because of something traumatic, and that it’s, like… sort of a fear or anxiety thing.”

“Um, yeah, basically. That’s a fair way of describing it, in a general sense,” Kei nods. He squeezes Yamaguchi’s hand a bit tighter, trying to decide just how to go about this, “for me… I tend to get nightmares. I’ve never had flashbacks or anything, but I get pretty bad nightmares sometimes, so sleeping is hard. I feel on edge a lot, and it kind of made me go numb. There’s a lot of shit that goes with it, but those are the things that really bother me most of the time.”

He sighs when Yamaguchi leans his head on his shoulder. It’s comforting, and Yamaguchi waits for him to continue, untangling their hands only to take Kei’s in both of his and draw lines across it. He peeks up at Kei, his eyes probing.

“I wasn’t severely hurt,” his voice is low. He’s not sure how to talk about this. He doesn’t even talk about it in therapy much anymore, and reliving the experience in order to explain it to Yamaguchi is a bit stressful, “and I was really young. The memory of it is honestly really foggy now, so it kind of pisses me off that it messed my brain up as much as it did.”

“What happened, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi murmurs.

It takes a moment. Kei forms the words in his head, rolls them around on his tongue, pictures their sound as he forms them out loud. He’s safe now, and he has been for many years. Talking about it is okay. Yamaguchi is safe, his body is nestled close to Kei and he’s warm, and his fingers tickle Kei’s hand just so, and he knows that this is okay. It’s overwhelming, but it’s okay.

“There was a break in,” he starts, “when I was… I think I was eight. I’m pretty sure Aki was thirteen or fourteen, so I would have been eight. Our parents went out one night, and they left Aki to babysit me. I’m not really sure what we were doing when the break in happened, but I remember hearing a window shatter, and then Aki grabbed me and shoved me in the closet in his bedroom. I think he went to go grab the phone. He probably wasn’t gone for very long, but I remember it felt like it was, and I was kind of crying and confused and I thought maybe he was just playing a prank on me or something. Aki was like that, playing practical jokes and stuff. I guess I should’ve realized he’d never pull one that cruel. Then again, I was eight, but… yeah.

So I left the closet to try and find him, and when I peeked out his door, there was this huge guy wearing all black leaving our parents’ room, holding my mom’s jewelry box. He saw me, and then, uh… it’s a bit fuzzy at that point, but I ended up in the living room, and I remember I was trying to fight him, so he ended up pinning me down and kicking me a few times. There were three guys there. They caught Aki with the phone and had him at gunpoint in the living room as well. I mean, they were just there to steal shit. Usually all robbers want is to steal some stuff and get out, I don’t think they were planning to actually hurt us, they just wanted us where they could see us. But when you’re a little kid and you have a gun pointed at you, it’s kind of hard not to immediately think you’re going to die. I must have been screaming or something, because the guy that dragged me down there ended up covering my mouth. And at some point the police showed up. Aki actually managed to dial them right before he got caught, and they were able to find us. If I remember correctly, I had a fractured rib from being kicked. But other than that, everything is pretty much gone from my memory.”

Beside him, Yamaguchi is watching his eyes, trying to comprehend just what it is that Kei is feeling. His are huge and anxious, like he can perfectly visualize the story that Kei is telling him. Yamaguchi links his arm with Kei’s, his other moving to properly hold his hand again.

Honestly, as Kei relays that awful night to his boyfriend, he feels more disconnected than he does upset or scared. It’s existed in his mind for nearly ten years now. He relives it in nightmares, plays the parts he can remember over and over again in his head, trying to imagine a different outcome. What else could he have done? If he’d stayed hidden, would things be different? If he didn’t come out of hiding, would Akiteru still be here? Whenever Kei entertains the possibility that he might’ve lost his brother that night, in one way or another, it makes him shudder. Almost glad that things happened the way they did instead. But still enraged. And still guilty. Because maybe he should’ve listened to his brother and stayed put. Maybe it’s his fault that Akiteru was caught in the first place. If he wasn’t there that night, Akiteru could’ve hidden with nobody to protect, and maybe he never would’ve been forced to stare down the barrel of a gun.

“A few years ago, my therapist suggested that I could look at the case files. Like, look at the actual court documents and police reports. She thought it might help me to look at what happened more objectively, because I’m typically pretty logical. So, I went and looked at them, and it… sort of helped. But it also sort of re-traumatized me, because I found out that two of the three guys who were there that night had ties to a human trafficking ring. And, like… things could have gone a lot worse than they did. So, it was good that they _didn’t_ , but knowing what kind of risk was actually present, and what they could’ve done to us if they wanted to? It screwed with me a lot. My therapist felt pretty bad about it when I told her that, but she’s… she’s good. My PTSD was a lot more obvious for the first few years after it happened, because it was way, way worse. She helped me deal with a lot of the worst parts of it,” Kei explains.

This is probably the most he’s spoken in one conversation with Yamaguchi. He’s usually happy to let Yamaguchi talk his little face off, only contributing when he truly has something to say or a response is expected. Talking this much leaves Kei feeling exposed and vulnerable, shoe digging at the ground in front of him and grimacing. There’s not much else to say, really. But his feelings are complicated. His mind is permanently altered because of that night, what was maybe an hour total out of his life. Yet, it’s changed so much for him. It holds a power over him that Kei resents so deeply. He wants to see everything in vibrant colours. He’s tired of looking at all of it through a grainy filter of ambivalence.

“I take an antidepressant,” he murmurs, “that helps with all of the fucked up feelings. But the thing that it’s never changed for me is how dull everything seems now. Like, I’m kind of numb. Sometimes I think I used up all of my ability to feel things in one night, and I’ll never be able to experience emotions properly again. Even… even with you, sometimes. I feel guilty because I’m not sure that I’m actually… fully feeling everything, and I’m worried it won’t be enough one day.”

Wow, okay. So, he didn’t mean to say _that_ stuff. But now he’s said it, and Yamaguchi is pulling away, and for a moment, Kei panics. Did he really just ruin everything? It was that easy for him to fuck it up? But, no, wait. Yamaguchi doesn’t leave. He angles his body towards Kei, reaches his hands out and caresses Kei’s face between them. His eyes are bright and shiny and sweet, his expression determined.

“Oh, Tsukki,” he breathes. His voice is soft, sad, and it’s brimming with _love_ and Kei’s heart is quivering in his chest, “it’s not fair that that happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of it, and you don’t deserve the way that it makes you feel. But, don’t ever think that how you feel won’t be enough, okay? At least for me, it _is_ enough. You’re enough! I mean, I- I still kind of think I’m dreaming when I’m with you sometimes, ‘cause you’re the coolest person ever, and you _like me?_ You’re so good to me, Tsukki, and you’ll always be enough for me. Even if you don’t feel your feelings as much as some other people do, it’s okay. You’re doing amazing.

And… I know it must really suck. To feel so numb so much of the time. But… maybe, over time, it’ll start to come back, right? Even if it doesn’t come back all the way. Maybe you just need more time, you know? You said yourself, you’re better now than you were in the beginning. Maybe some of your feelings just need a bit more time, to learn how to trust the world again.”

Kei wraps a hand around Yamaguchi’s wrist. He leans their foreheads together, and a deep breath rushes out of him. He’s not sure how he ended up here, how he managed to become so infatuated with his best friend, and his heart feels swollen – really, the way he feels right now is anything but numb. And he knows that Yamaguchi is right, or at least on the right track. It’s not even entirely his brain’s fault. Kei knows that he resists his feelings, that when they begin to well up, big and loud, he tries to shut them up. Maybe it’s not so much his feelings that have to learn how to trust the world again, but him.

Trusting Yamaguchi is a pretty good start.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, pushing a strand of hair out of Yamaguchi’s face.

Yamaguchi grins at him, a soft shade of pink dusting his cheeks. Always so joyful to know how fond Kei is of him.

“I’ll make it as slow as possible, promise,” he gibes.

“Shut up, ‘dashi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

He’s not sorry at all, though. He’s smiling so wide, the corners of his eyes crinkling with pure happiness, his thumbs brushing the soft skin just below Kei’s glasses. It’s utterly mortifying how that makes him blush. Tsukishima Kei. Blushing. He can’t even believe himself.

“…Thank you,” he whispers.

“Always,” Yamaguchi replies.

They shift after that, into a more comfortable position. They face the road again, Yamaguchi’s head on Kei’s shoulder, Kei’s head on Yamaguchi’s. Hands linked, always linked. Kei drops a kiss on Yamaguchi’s hair from time to time, happy to bask in the quiet of the nighttime, listening to the occasional distant car or birdsong, the buzzing of the street lamp. It’s getting late, though, and he knows he’ll have to go home soon, and so will Yamaguchi. He wishes they didn’t have to part, but such are the woes of the teenaged couple. Not to mention all the homework he has to get through. That thought elicits a displeased sigh from Kei, to which Yamaguchi squeezes his hands. Kei’s brain buzzes for a moment, glancing down at Yamaguchi.

“Hey, Tadashi,” he says.

“Hm?” Yamaguchi answers.

“Next time you have a panic attack, come to me, okay? Even if it’s not until after. I want to help you if I can,” Kei asks.

“Okay, Tsukki. I will. Thank you.”

* * *

Eventually, the ever moving march of time forces them to stand up and go home. At Kei’s house, Yamaguchi collects his things and prepares himself to go home. Kei hates saying goodbye to him, even when he knows that they’ll see each other again in the morning. And they’re still young and far away from independence, but Kei thinks that he would enjoy sleeping in the same bed as Yamaguchi one day. He thinks it would feel like safety. Maybe eventually, they’ll get to.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Yamaguchi says. He’s on one side of the open door, and Kei is on the other.

“Yeah…”

Before he says goodbye and lets Yamaguchi walk away, Kei grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him close. He kisses him. Short and sweet. But the look on his face is every bit as satisfying when Kei pulls away, and he’s not big on smiles, but he can’t help it. It’s impossible not to smile at Yamaguchi.

“See you tomorrow, ‘dashi,” he says.

As Yamaguchi walks away, disappearing down the street, Kei realizes that he is regrettably, sickeningly, beautifully, just a little bit in love.

And _that_ feeling is so, very, vibrant.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments and feedback are hella appreciated. I have one more story in the works for this series and then it will be completed.


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